


kiss stained lips

by Yoonki_397



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Getting Together, Kind of..., M/M, Making Out, Pining, mild frottage, yanan is more obvious than he thinks and hyunggu finally catches on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:26:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29973879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoonki_397/pseuds/Yoonki_397
Summary: Yanan isn't dishonest.Not totally.
Relationships: Kang Hyunggu | Kino/Yan An
Comments: 14
Kudos: 45





	kiss stained lips

**Author's Note:**

> been thinking about these boys for ages and finally decided to do something about it

Yanan isn’t dishonest. 

If you look at it objectively, he’s more cautious than he is untruthful.

He doesn’t offer up information freely unless directly asked, and even then he tends to only answer what is specifically asked of him and nothing else. The other members tend to say he’s prone to lying, sometimes jokingly and other times less so, but Yanan sees it as keeping his cards close to his chest. It’s easier to get what he wants that way, with less risk of hurting anyone involved. Including himself. 

That’s how he often finds himself alone in the company of Hyunggu.

He pretends he has a solo schedule after practice so that no one asks why he’s staying behind at the company building.

He lets himself into Hyunggu’s studio with the excuse of wanting to talk about the pronunciation of a line in one of their new tracks, even though he’d already finished recording his parts. 

He accepts the glass of wine Hyunggu pours him from one of the bottles he keeps in the room, half for the look of them on his shelves, half for destressing after hours of work, without question. 

He doesn’t say anything when Hyunggu lowers the lights in the room and turns on one of his playlists.

“Just setting the mood,” Hyunggu says with a laugh, sitting back down right next to Yanan on the cramp loveseat. Yanan nods but stays quiet, not sure about what mood the other is trying to create. Not wanting to think too hard about the mood he’s manifesting in his own mind between them. 

He lets Hyunggu think he’s tipsy when he’s barely had enough to drink to even feel a buzz because it’s safer than trying to decipher the jumble of thoughts his mind became when they were alone together. 

Hyunggu nestles himself into Yanan’s side, legs tucked in and crossed so that his knee is resting on top of Yanan’s, denim against denim. His head is turned so he’s talking right into Yanan’s ear, a habit he’d developed whenever they’re alone drinking together like this so that Yanan’s “drunken” ears are better able to hear him. Yanan hadn’t stopped him the first time it happened and it’s too late to stop him now. Not that he’d want to give up the little pseudo skinship the minor misunderstanding had established between them. The hand he’s not using to hold his glass rests high on Yanan’s thigh.

Time passes in the tiny space of the studio, slow and unrushed.

Hyunggu’s voice fills the space more often than Yanan’s, the tenor of it as he murmurs and giggles landing onto Yanan’s eardrums, and settling into his chest like a punch. He can feel how his breath moves the ends of his fringe and warms the side of his neck, almost like he’s sat too close to the sun. 

Yanan keeps his head down, eyes flickering to look at Hyunggu every few words as he talks but staying mainly on the glass in his hands. If he looks too long, if he focuses even half a second longer on how Hyunggu’s lips are stained deep red with wine instead their usual blush pink then he knows he’ll do something stupid. 

There’s music playing, something slow and instrumental, a jazz piece Yanan knows Hyunggu must have told him the name of but he can’t remember. He doesn’t think Hyunggu realises the way he’s moving his hand on Yanan’s jeans as he talks, but Yanan’s hyper aware of it, of the way his nails scrape along the fabric against his thigh like pinpricks. The movement follows the tempo of the song, languid and slow, and Yanan can feel the way the drag of it sets his entire body alight. 

Yanan tries to focus on what Hyunggu is saying, but it’s impossible when he’s sitting so close in the low light of his studio, speaking in that gentle melodic way of his. The wine they’re sipping is warming and clouding his mind, enough so that Yanan starts to wonder if he turns his head whether they’d be kissing. 

Maybe he should try it. 

Yanan considers it for a moment longer than he should, distracted by the mental image of his lips pressed to Hyunggu’s, that he doesn’t realise the other is asking him something. 

“Hyung?”

He turns to respond, and realises his mistake too late. 

He was right, they’re much closer than Yanan had realised, close enough that only a handful of centimeters keeps them apart. Yanan tries to remember what they had been talking about when he was last paying attention but his mind is blank, the only thought he can try and focus on is why closing the gap between them would be a bigger mistake. Hyunggu’s brows furrow in concern and confusion, before he reaches to take the half empty glass from Yanan’s hand and place it on his desk along with his own. 

“Hyung, are you okay?” Hyunggu asks, slowing and emphasising each syllable, probably thinking Yanan was just too intoxicated. He reaches up to cup his hand around Yanan’s cheeks, turning it side to side and following his eyes. His palms are warm against Yanan’s skin, and he can feel the way his cheeks grow hot and flushed under them. 

Maybe he’s drunker than he thought. 

“Do you want water or something?”

“I want…”, Yanan stops himself, lets his sentence trail off without finishing. The yearning that sits weighted in his chest, heavy and saccharine, is too close to the surface. What he wants to say is too close to a confession, too close to being the truth that Yanan has to force himself to shut up before he ruins everything. 

This is why he keeps his thoughts to himself, why he deals in half-truths. It’s easier for him to settle with what he has. It’s better for everyone if Yanan continues to pretend to be content in his friendship. Pining from less than arm's length was less painful than laying himself bare at Hyunggu’s feet and begging for his love to be returned. 

They stare at each other in silence. Hyunggu’s eyes travel across his face, flickering down to his lips more than once before they settle back onto his eyes. Something shifts in the way Hyunggu looks at him, like a puzzle piece clicking into place behind his eyes. Yanan doesn’t get long to think about what the expression might mean before Hyunggu is leaning in and closing the distance between their lips. 

The kiss catches Yanan off guard. There’s a moment where their lips are just pressed together, neither of them doing anything to deepen it. When the initial shock of realising that he’s kissing Hyunggu, the boy he’s spent so long wanting more than anyone else, wears off Yanan allows himself to enjoy, knowing it must be just a fleeting moment between them and wanting to get as much as he can from it before reality sets back in.

He lets himself get carried away, reaching out to hold Hyunggu by the hips, holding on so tightly that he thinks he might leave bruises on the pale skin underneath the fabric of the other’s shirt. He hears Hyunggu sigh as his hands move from his face to tangle in his hair as he leans back. Yanan follows until they’re laid back on the cushions, moving to support himself above the other one handed.

They kiss until the sweet burn of wine is gone from their lips, until they can no longer use the alcohol in their system as an excuse for their actions. 

Yanan is desperate. He lets his yearning spill out into the hungry way he moves his lips against Hyunggu, lets his devotion for the other bleed out as he licks at the sweet taste of wine on his lips. At some point, Hyunggu’s leg stretches out to hook around Yanan’s hip, pulling him down until they’re press flush against each other. Denim against denim. Hyunggu rolls his hips up, pressing himself hard against Yanan. Hard enough to make it obvious what this is doing to him. The revelation just makes Yanan that much more desperate, and he moves his hips to match. 

Yanan can feel the way his leg and arm are beginning to ache from the way they’re cramped on the tiny love seat, but now that they’ve started kissing, Yanan doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to stop. Now that he knows what it feels like to have Hyunggu’s lips pressed against his, to hear him sigh his name and cling to him, he can’t imagine ever not kissing him. If he didn’t need to breath he probably wouldn’t have stopped at all. 

Yanan pulls away and is met with the sight of Hyunggu laid out beneath him, hair mused and face flushed deep red all the way down to his neck. His lips are agape as he tries to catch his breath, and Yanan has to close his eyes and stop himself from imaging what else they could be doing to make him look like that. 

It’s too much. The thought of being with Hyunggu like this, the feeling of him under Yanan, of Hyunggu in his arms finally after all this time spent fantasising. It’s overwhelming in a way that makes his head spin worse than being drunk ever could. Yanan leans his head down in the space where Hyunggu’s neck and shoulder meet to try and catch his breath. 

From here, the scent of Hyunggu’s cologne is its strongest. Rose and violet flood his senses, cloying and sticking to the back of his throat. Yanan feels like he’s drowning.

Hyunggu stays wrapped around him, limbs clinging and holding him close. He turns his head to press his cheek into Yanan’s hair, nuzzling against him. From where their chests are still pressed together, Yanan can feel their heartbeats fall into sync. 

Yanan sighs and presses his head into the movement, breathing finally evening out and heart resurfacing. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bf_wonwoo)
> 
> talk to me on [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/bf_wonwoo)


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